Not My Intention
by Aryennae
Summary: While one Max Goof was already prone to making mistakes, being drunk just set him up for a whole new level of mistakes. After an encounter he'd like to forget, he finds himself coming back for more and more. But it's not wholly torturous; maybe not torturous at all. Maybe Max just thinks that to make himself feel better. All the same, Bobby and PJ can't find out. [set during XGM]


_Author's note: This idea has been pestering me for a while, so I finally decided to give it a shot and write it out. While I have seen every episode of Goof Troop, both the Goofy Movies, House of Mouse, and both of the Mickey's [blank] Upon a Christmas multiple times, I haven't written these characters before, so just a heads-up for any readers wondering._

_Rated PG-13 for language, situational/sexual content, and dialogue._

**Not My Intention**

_by Aryennae_

Chapter One

Max had completely screwed up.

He ran a hand through his hair as he walked shamefully across campus, still bleary-eyed from just having woken up. Fortunately for him, it was five in the morning, and no one else was around to notice the up-and-coming X-Games king haul himself back to his dorm, hungover.

The air was bitter on his face, and was not doing anything to help his growing headache. Max groaned, dreading the discussion he was bound to have with his roommates. If he was lucky, they wouldn't wake up; however, Max was never that lucky.

He kept himself trudging across campus, hoping to stay alone with his thoughts and guilt.

"Max Goof!" he heard a feminine shout behind him. Go figure.

"Yeah, it's me," Max said, his discomfort probably painfully showing through his words.

"I knew it! You are, like, famous, man," the blond girl said, jogging up beside him.

Taking in her outfit, it was obvious she was out for a chilly morning run. Of course, it was just his luck to run into a jogger.

"Mmhmm."

"What are you doing out so early? I heard your team likes to get their beauty rest!" Why must this chick be so damn enthusiastic?

"I had a late night. I'm heading back to my dorm," Max answered, his words short and to the point.

"Naturally!" the girl responded with a giggle. "I have an eight a.m., so I best be going. It was great running into you, new king!"

The girl took off down the street, leaving a partially relieved Max to continue his journey in his misery.

Thankfully, Max didn't run into anyone else on his way up to his dorm. He opted for the stairs, despite their dorm being on the fifth floor, simply to avoid any further interaction. Once he arrived at his room, he slid the card key and opened the door as slow as possible.

A cringe-worthy declaration of "Look who's _finally_ home!" greeted Max as soon as he stepped inside and carefully closed the door behind him.

"Damn it," Max muttered, turning around to shoot a glare at Bobby, who had announced his awaited arrival.

"Where have you been, Max?" PJ asked with concern. "We looked everywhere for you."

"Before we were bounced out of the party by Georgette's boyfriend," Bobby added with disgust. "Sorority girls are touchy, bro."

Max rolled his eyes. With his head pounding, he could really care less how his friends' night went. They were okay—kind of unlike himself—and that's all that mattered; the details were easily something he could do without.

"I was out," Max replied in answer to PJ's question.

"And you're hungover," PJ said.

Max shot PJ a disgruntled glare before heading over to his single bed and flopping onto it, the springs squeaking under his weight.

Bobby and PJ shared a look and shrugged.

"You weren't outside all night, were you?" PJ asked, his tone not accusing. However, Max wasn't always the best at interpreting what others' intended with their words, and his irritation was not helping his already lackluster skills.

Thus, Max lifted his head just enough to stare at PJ with in a less-than-friendly manner. "Hah," he said sharply, though his pillow muffled his words. "What do you mean by that?"

It was obvious PJ wanted to recoil, but he tried his best to hold his ground. "I-I was just curious as to where you were. And I wanted to make sure you weren't gonna get a cold from bein' outside, y'know?"

"Well, I'm just fine," Max said with a huff, burying his face back in his pillow.

There was a reason Max didn't drink very often, and beyond rarely got drunk; his hangovers turned him into an absolute grump, and horrendous to be around.

"Max-man, if you weren't so pissy, I'd say you were gone 'cause you got _laid_." Bobby chuckled, sitting himself down on his own bed.

At Bobby's words, Max shot straight up. "No, I didn't," he said harshly.

"Ooh, someone's getting de-fens-_ive_," Bobby said teasingly.

"Shut up," was Max's response, along with his features getting notably more annoyed.

"Well, with responses like that," Bobby said nonchalantly, hopping off his bed to stand beside PJ, who was in a chair, "There's only one answer."

"What's that?" PJ asked as Max turned to watch them, his hair unusually messy.

"It means Maximillian here _did_ get some, and that I'm am jeal-ous." Bobby looked at Max smugly, raising his ever-present sunglasses above his eyes. "Am I right, or am I right?"

"You're wrong," Max said, irritated that Bobby was goading him on. He was determined not to give his friend the reaction he knew he desired, but at that same time, his head was not being the most cooperative in the 'controlling pain and thinking logically' department.

"Really?" Bobby said, incredulousness abounding. "You come back at five in the morning, which you never do," he started.

"Maybe we should just leave Max alone," PJ suggested meekly.

He was blatantly ignored in favor of Bobby listing reasons why Max was lying.

"Your hair is a mess. That is sex hair, _mi amigo_. Your hair doesn't even look like that after you sleep on it."

Max ran a hand through his hair as he got up to grab some ibuprofen from his desk. His steps were heavy and nearly stomping on the ground as he crossed the room.

"You were chatting up some chick last time we saw you."

Max absently wondered when Bobby had started to think logically as he tossed to pills in his mouth and grabbed his water bottle.

"And the last thing I can think of is that you're the competition to that Gamma geek, including in the bedroom department. Who _wouldn't_ want to bed you?"

Max turned to actually look at Bobby, and both he and PJ gave the redheaded male questioning looks.

"Okay," Max said slowly, his tone ever-so-slightly less irritated with a bit of 'weirded-out' added into the mix.

"So who was it?" Bobby pressed.

"No one," Max responded.

Bobby gave Max a look that clearly said he didn't believe him. "There was somebody. You just don't wanna tell me and PJ here for whatever reason."

"You're right," Max said as he sat back down on his bed, "I'm keeping secrets left and right. Next thing you know, it's revealed that Mr. P told me he's a transvestite and that I found out Principal Mazur was a Gray."

"Did you ever think that, y'know, Max is telling the truth?" PJ suggested.

"Yes, thank you, Peej," Max chimed in. "See?" he added, redirecting his attention back to Bobby.

"No," Bobby answered simply. "You were with someone, and you're just lying about it."

"Why the hell would I lie about something like that?"

"Hell if I know," Bobby responded. "Maybe you're embarrassed about who you chose to get in bed with while drunk or something. How am I supposed to know?"

Max grimaced. "Well, you're the one who supposedly knows all, including my sex life and when I lie about it, right?"

And that seemed to push Bobby out of the metaphorical sentence-wrestling ring.


End file.
